


Freed

by suzvoy



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-25
Updated: 2004-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzvoy/pseuds/suzvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark realises what Lex really said. A 'Bound' episode addition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freed

## Freed

by Suz

<http://sjhw.net/suzvoy/svfic.html>

* * *

A 'Bound' episode addition, rated PG. Clex. Thaaaaanks to saf! _smoochies_ And, uh, there's angst here. Oh yeah. 

Feedback would be delightful. 

* * *

Clark was distracted throughout dinner. He ate his chicken without tasting it, swallowed his food purely on reflex, and even managed to down several forkfuls of peas without realising it until Dad made a comment and grinned. 

He might have grinned back; Clark wasn't sure. He was too pre-occupied thinking about Lex. 

When Dad left to take the last look around the farm for the night - it was tradition by now, one needed in a place as strange as Smallville - Mom leant further towards him. 

"Are you okay, honey? I don't think you've said a single word since you sat down. I know you like your food," she teased warmly, red hair vibrant under the artificial light, "but that's unusual, even for you." 

"I'm okay," Clark replied, fork absently stabbing at the remnants of his meal, "just thinking." 

"About Lex?" 

Really, it made sense that she knew. Lex had visited just before dinner. "I just..." Clark sighed. "I just always have to _think_ after talking to him, you know? It always feels like he's not saying what he's saying. That he's really saying something else." Especially lately, especially since things hadn't been right between them. Clark was sure people in Smallville weren't supposed to talk like that. 

Mom smiled gently. "Well, what did he say?" 

Clark shrugged, looking down at his plate. "That he didn't want me to give up on him. That he knew he'd made a mistake. That sometimes he didn't know why..." 

Clark felt like he'd been hit with kryptonite. Stumbling up from his chair, pushing it back, he cursed. He didn't even care that Mom heard. 

He'd been so caught up in deciphering what Lex had meant, that he'd completely ignored what Lex had _said_. 

"Clark? Clark, are you-?" 

"I have to go." And then he was going; speeding out of the house and into the yard, running past Dad, onto the road, and then all the way to Luthor Manor. 

It took him no more than a minute, but it was a minute where his mind provided every horrific image it could possibly find of what he'd see when he arrived. He didn't wait for someone to let him in; didn't waste precious seconds to make it look like he hadn't broken it. He ploughed straight through the door, either ripping it off completely or leaving a Clark-shaped hole. He didn't look back and he didn't care. 

His x-ray vision found Lex in his office, very much alive - thank God - but Clark kept running, only dropping into normal speed when he made it into the office. "Lex!" 

Startled by the shout, Lex spun around from where he was standing next to the bar. "Clark?" 

Lex was holding a bottle of pills. Lex was holding a _bottle of pills_. Clark's mind took in the scene - Lex holding the pills, standing next to the bar, a large glass of brandy just near his elbow - and stopped operating with any kind of sense. 

"What are you doing with those?" Clark asked, stalking towards him. 

Frowning, Lex looked down at the pills as he worked at getting the lid off. "I have a headache. Which isn't surprising after the week I've...Clark?" 

Stopping just before he would have walked into him, Clark snatched the pills out of Lex's hands. "You're not having these. Drugs are bad for you." He eyed the bar. "Same goes for alcohol. You drink too much." 

Something flared in Lex's eyes. "Clark, I know you don't agree with many aspects of my lifestyle, but it _is_ my life and..." 

As Lex kept talking about his right to do whatever the hell he wanted, Clark turned and started looking around the office, the bottle of pills still clutched in his right hand. God, there were swords - things that had _killed_ \- all over the entire Manor. He had to do something about them. Bend them, make them useless. Maybe melt them down with his heat vision. 

There were bound to be knives in the kitchen, but Clark wasn't sure Lex had actually ever been in the kitchen. Still, he shouldn't leave it to chance. It was just as well he didn't have to worry about Lex having razors anywhere in his home. One less thing Clark had to keep him away from. 

Still looking around the room, Clark mentally catalogued everything that could be used to cause physical damage to someone - or specifically, yourself. Anything with sharp edges, or heavy in weight - anything that could _hurt_. 

At some point, Lex had stopped ranting. "Clark?" 

Turning back in his general direction, Clark still didn't focus on him. "You have any other weapons in here?" 

" _What_?" Lex must have been really confused to sound like that. 

Clark shook it off. "Weapons. Any others. In here." 

Frowning, Lex gestured towards his desk. "Well...there's a gun in a metal box behind my desk." 

Yes, the gun. Clark remembered it now. The one Lex had pulled when he'd thought Clark was still Lionel. The box was obviously where he kept it. 

So easy to get to. So very easy. Dangerous. 

"It just seemed like good sense to have one," Lex explained as Clark approached the box. "I've been attacked so many times in my own home, and this is _Smallville_ after all." 

"Shouldn't keep things like this nearby," Clark muttered, opening the box with his free hand, and taking out the gun. 

Lex was by him instantly, touching his arm. "Clark, Clark be careful with that-" 

Yanking away from him, Clark stepped back. "You don't need a gun, Lex." 

Apparently still having no idea what was going on, Lex studied him carefully before producing a small smile. "Unfortunately, sometimes I do. You're not always here to protect me." Turning his head away, he very deliberately looked at the burn marks still on the floor. "Even when I wish you were." 

Something in those words horrified Clark. "Lex, I'm not going to leave. I may get angry with you sometimes, but I'm not going to leave." It was very important that Lex understood. The idea of him dying was _unthinkable_. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself." 

Lex's eyebrows went up. "Kill myself? I'm not about to commit suicide." 

Clark suddenly felt incredibly stupid. "But...before...in the barn. You said you wished the fire..." 

Stepping back, Lex turned away and ran a hand over his head, letting it linger. The muscles in his shoulders scrunched tightly together. "It is...hard, sometimes. There have been occasions where I thought it would be easier if I just...let it happen. Died." The hand lowered. Clark's tightened around the pills. "Regardless, Clark, I don't think I actually have it in me to kill myself. Not deliberately." 

Clark should have felt relieved; instead, all he felt was an over-riding sense of _purpose_. Realising that carrying the gun around probably wasn't a smart idea, he placed it carefully on the desk before approaching his friend. "Lex, don't you get it? You _are_ killing yourself, a piece at a time. With these," he shook the pills, "and the alcohol, and the women, and God knows what else." 

Angry, Lex swung back around to face him. "You can't just demand that I stop, Clark." 

"Why not?" It was what he needed to do. 

"I said before - this is my life. It has to be my choice." 

"Then make it your choice!" He was edging closer and closer towards hysteria, and couldn't see any way to pull back. "God, Lex, I can see the darkness you've been talking about, and you'll either end up like your father or something even worse." Moving forward, Clark leant until they were almost touching. "I miss the guy who used to tell me about history, who used to confide and joke with me about the latest horrible thing his dad had done. How long has it been since we've even just sat in the Talon together? We never just hang out anymore." 

Lex, unexpectedly, laughed. "Jesus, Clark. The only time I see you now is when you come over here to ask for something. I realised that was all you wanted from me anymore." 

Oh...oh, _shit_. Okay, he'd messed up. Seriously. But they could fix it, he was sure. "I'm sorry, I screwed up. I really did. We both did. But we can fix this, Lex. We have to. I haven't kept saving you just to watch you kill yourself, kill who you are. I'm not going to let this happen, we can do something, we can make it better, we can-" 

"Clark..." Lex's face was doubtful about something. Maybe all of it. 

It was enough. 

"I'm not going to let you die!" 

The bottle fell from Clark's grasp, hollow plastic hitting the wooden floor, the pills rolling noisily inside. Breathing heavily, licking his lips, Clark actually stumbled back, and he _got_ it now. Why he'd been so angry about the room, about the women, about Lex becoming more and more like Lionel. 

He hadn't _known_. "Oh, God..." 

"Clark?" Lex was there, face concerned, reaching out to touch his arm the way he always did. "What's-?" 

Clark didn't think. He just kissed him. 

Lex didn't pull away, didn't pull back in disgust. He froze instead, just letting Clark do whatever he wanted. 

When Clark eventually pulled back himself, scared shitless but strangling with hope, Lex's expression was as stunned as he'd even seen it. 

"Clark..." Lex swallowed. "You're my best friend. My only real friend. Despite our problems lately I still care about you more than anyone else..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head once, slowly. "I don't..." 

Clark got it. Clark understood it all, now. Hope fled, but with it he was suddenly able to breathe again. "Okay." His voice hadn't shuddered too badly. He almost felt proud. 

He wondered if this was how Chloe felt. 

The hand still on his arm rubbed up and down slowly. "You're only seventeen, Clark. That's still young. You're probably just confused." 

Part of him rankled at the idea, that he couldn't really be feeling this because he was 'young'. Hadn't Lex implied the same thing about Lana, why he'd told the school about her and Jason? 

But Clark also recognised the statement for what it was - an out. An opportunity. 

Lex was making it easy, when he had every right not to. "Yeah," Clark breathed, pretending that his throat wasn't burning, "I think I'm...confused. Yeah." It was a lie that, for once, he didn't mind telling. "But I meant what I said, Lex." There were things that still needed to be said, things that were ultimately more important. "You said sometimes you don't know why you do the things you do. The next time you feel like you're going to do something like that, contact me. Call me. Or come to the farm. Or get me to come to you - I don't care. Just...don't be alone, Lex. Talk to me. Even if you think I won't like what you have to say." 

He should have done this a long time ago. He should have realised a long time ago. He shouldn't have waited until now. 

"Let me be your friend." 

**~FINIS**


End file.
